Before the Wedding
by VGWrighte
Summary: 3 part story set the day of the Series 3 Christmas Special wedding. They couldn't be more fortunate. Part 1: Timothy. Part 2: Patrick. Part 3: Shelagh.
1. Timothy

Timothy Before the Wedding

Based upon Call The Midwife, developed by Heidi Thomas

Part 1 of a 3 part story

\- - Poplar, Early Spring 1959 - -

They parked directly in front of the church. Tim supposed they were entitled to. He, after all, had these wretched calipers on his legs, and it was Dad's wedding.

Dad rushed around to his side of the car, in an attempt to help Tim out of the vehicle, but Tim was determined to do it by himself. He hadn't ridden in the car since coming home from The London. And on that particular trip, he had laid down in the back with his head on Mum's lap. At the time, he hadn't been very tired, but they insisted. Tim had to admit (secretly, to himself) that he had enjoyed the sensation, and had very much enjoyed the way she ran her fingers through his hair. And Dad had carried him into the house and deposited him into his bed. Tim had fallen asleep before Mum could bring him a cup of tea.

All that was behind him now. Dad had assured him that the strength in his legs would return, and that the calipers were just a temporary measure. Temporary or not, Tim wasn't going to let them dictate his life. So he got himself out of the car.

Tim looked up at the stairs leading to the massive front doors of All Saints Church. It looked like a higher climb than it had once been. Glancing up at Dad's smiling face, he started up the stairs without another hesitation. After all, it was Dad's wedding day and they didn't want to leave Mum waiting.

When they got into the narthex, there were a few people milling about. They were instantly greeted by Constable and Mrs. Noakes, who had agreed to be the Master and Mistress of Ceremonies at the reception. Tim wasn't quite sure what a Master or Mistress of Ceremonies did, but he was pleased that they had agreed.

"Everyone's here," Constable Noakes said, making a gesture in the general direction of a closed door off to the left.

Dad looked down at Tim, "Why don't you pop in an let everyone know we're here. They were concerned about us being late."

Timothy smiled. "I may get around slower these days," he tapped his calipers, "but it's you they were concerned about being late."

Dad grinned back. "Hold your cheek, Son. Or perhaps we'll leave you at Nonnatus House while we take our holiday. I'm sure Sister Evangelina could use some help with not only cleaning equipment but on the district roster as well."

"I wouldn't mind," Timothy warned in an equally playful tone, "The Sisters have better rates than you do."

Dad laughed as Timothy made his way to the closed door where the girls were supposedly getting ready. He didn't particularly understand why they had to get ready at the church. Why couldn't they get ready at home like normal people did?

He knocked twice.

"Who is it?" Nurse Franklin called from within.

"Timothy," he called back.

The door was immediately cracked open, revealing nothing but her face. She glanced about, then quickly opened the door and ushered him inside.

Tim was going to make a comment about the odd behavior, but then he saw Mum.

The dress was white.

He swallowed hard, meeting her gaze across the room. She turned and stepped towards him, he saw the skirts of the dress move as she turned and trail behind her slightly. She was smiling.

Tim realized he was smiling too.

She crouched in front of him, her skirts expanding somewhat around her. As she wasn't tall to begin with, the motion brought the top of her head level with his gaze. She ran her hand across the back of his collar and then tugged on both his lapels, straightening his jacket. "Oh, Timothy, you look so handsome."

At last, he found his voice. "Mum, you look . . . " he trailed off. He didn't know the correct word to describe her. "Beautiful." He settled on. It sounded stupid, and he ducked his head for a second but his gaze was drawn back to hers.

"Thank you." She released his lapels and grasped his hands tightly.

He was so enraptured by her that he didn't even notice that all the nuns and nurses had congregated in the corner of the room and were staring at them. Again, not really knowing what to say, he spoke and felt stupid as soon as he did. "Dad told me to come and tell you we were here so you wouldn't be worried about us being late."

Mum laughed softly, and Tim realized why he was dumbfounded. "You look like an angel," he realized aloud.

At this, Mum bit her lip and ducked her head for a moment. "I wasn't worried about the two of you being late. I knew you'd get him here on time," she said, ignoring the angel comment.

Tim nodded.

She glanced at the clock, "Are you ready?" she asked.

He nodded again.

"Why don't you go take care of your father. We'll finish getting ready here, and I'll meet you up at the altar."

Tim nodded a third time. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "We'll beat you up there, Mum, I promise."

Mum laughed, and cupped his cheek for a second before she stood.

Tim headed back into the narthex. Constable and Mrs. Noakes had made their way into the Sanctuary, and Dad was speaking with Sister Julienne. Tim hadn't even noticed she wasn't in the preparation room with the others.

"Is Mum alright?" Dad asked.

"Smashing," Tim said, having seemingly recovered his powers of speech. "She wanted to make sure we were at the altar when she got up there."

Dad laughed.

"Enough milling about," Sister Evangelina said, heading across the narthex and heading into the Sanctuary with Sister Monica Joan on her heels. "We've all got a wedding to attend."

Sister Monica Joan paused in the doorway, and peered at Dad. "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves." She paused and turned to gaze at Timothy. It felt like she was looking through him. "A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

After a second, Dad responded, "For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother, and he shall be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh."

It certainly sounded like it was from the Bible, Timothy was surprised his father knew anything from the Bible. In any case, Sister Monica Joan smiled and headed into the Sanctuary without another word. It wasn't unusual for Timothy to not understand a thing that the old nun said, but it was odd for Dad to be equally enigmatic.

Timothy watched the clock on the wall. When it was time, he looked up at Dad and spoke, "Dad, it's our turn."

Dad took a deep breath and a grin overtook his face. He glanced at Sister Julienne before stepping forward to the Sanctuary. "And I'm very glad."

\- - END - -

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 and Genesis 2:24


	2. Patrick

Patrick Before the Wedding

Based upon Call The Midwife, developed by Heidi Thomas

\- - Poplar, Early Spring 1959 - -

Patrick parked directly in front of the church. He didn't want Tim to have to walk too far. The boy was already half out of the vehicle by the time he made it around to assist him. Patrick smiled at his son; determined to the end.

Timothy paused at the bottom of the steps, but only for a moment. Patrick was grinning, it was hard not to, today. Timothy looked up for a brief second, grinned back and started the climb up the steps.

"There's the man of the hour," Constable Noakes greeted him as they made their way into the narthex.

"And he's brought Doctor Turner with him," Mrs. Noakes commented, earning a smile and a sideways glance from her husband.

"Everyone's here," Constable Noakes said, gesturing towards a room to Patrick's left. Both his and Timothy's gaze followed the gesture.

Patrick looked down at his son, "Why don't you pop in an let everyone know we're here. They were concerned about us being late."

Timothy smirked; a smirk that Patrick was sure Timothy saw on his own face too often. "I may get around slower these days," he tapped his calipers, "but it's you they were concerned about being late."

Patrick grinned at his son, "Hold your cheek, Son. Or perhaps we'll leave you at Nonnatus House while we take our holiday. I'm sure Sister Evangelina could use some help with not only cleaning equipment but on the district roster as well." The threat was hollow, mostly because Patrick felt incredibly playful today.

"I wouldn't mind," Timothy warned in an equally playful tone, "The Sisters have better rates than you do."

Patrick laughed as his son made his way to the preparation room. He watched Timothy for a moment, he saw the door open a crack, Nurse Franklin peak her head out before bustling the boy inside.

Grinning like an idiot, he turned his attention back to the Noakes', who were wearing matching gleeful expressions.

"Ready, Doctor?" The Constable asked.

Patrick nodded. He had been ready for this for some time. "I was ready before Christmas, someone had other plans, though."

"What whatever His reasons, we trust them. For He has given us everything we have." Patrick turned to see Sister Julienne join them, holding Freddie in her arms. She handed the infant over to Mrs. Noakes.

"Sister, I was hoping to get a chance to speak with you before everything got started."

"Of course, Doctor," she replied. Taking this as a cue, the Noakes' made their way into the Sanctuary

"I wanted to thank you," he said softly.

"For what?" she asked.

"For everything." He paused. "She struggled for so long. She felt as if she was abandoning her family. But you never abandoned her. You were there when she needed you and your support means everything to her, therefore it means everything to me."

"She is our family, as are you. And to see your love and mutual joy . . . I see God it in." Even her kind eyes smiled at him.

"And I wanted to thank you for giving her to me."

She took his hand and squeezed it gently. "We did not give her to you, He did."

Patrick nodded. "And I've been thanking Him every day."

He noticed Timothy returning, and Sister Julienne released his hand. "Is Mum alright?" he asked.

"Smashing," Timothy replied with a smile. "She wanted to make sure we were at the altar when she got up there."

The cheek. Patrick laughed.

"Enough milling about," Sister Evangelina broke his revelry. She and Sister Monica Joan were headed towards the Sanctuary. "We've all got a wedding to attend," she looked pointedly, as if he had forgotten why they were there.

Sister Monica Joan paused in the doorway, and peered at him. "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor. If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves." She paused and turned to gaze at Timothy, "A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

Patrick smiled and responded with one of the few verses of holy scripture he knew, "For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother, and he shall be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh."

Sister Monica Joan smiled broadly and continued her way into the Sanctuary, leaving Patrick and a mildly bewildered Timothy behind.

It wasn't long until Timothy finally spoke, "Dad, it's our turn."

Patrick took a deep breath. Before God and their community, she would be his. He glanced at Sister Julienne before stepping forward to the Sanctuary, Timothy at his side. "And I'm very glad."

They made their way up to the altar and waited. The music changed and he knew Shelagh was behind him, making her way up the aisle. He saw Timothy turn to watch her.

For a second, Patrick was afraid to. He feared that if he turned, it would all dissolve and he would find himself sitting in his car in the rain, his heart aching and Sister Bernadette receiving treatment at Saint Anne's Sanatorium.

Timothy tore his eyes away from the aisle to grin at him. The smile mustered his courage and he turned. His breath caught. She looked like an angel.

He suddenly recalled the first time he had ever heard her sing. It was late, they were at Compline. He hadn't wanted to interrupt them, but he needed Sister Julienne's assistance. He decided to step into the chapel and wait for one of them to notice him. Patrick froze at the doorway. Her voice rang out alone. At that moment, he had the conscious thought "This is what an angel sounds like." Then the others joined her, beneath her voice, complementing it. He stared at the back of her head, in awe, until he saw movement. Sister Julienne has seen him and was leaving the others. He followed her out of the chapel, pausing for a moment, memorizing the sound.

He hadn't been in love with her, not then. After he realized he was in love with her, but before she returned to him as no longer Sister Bernadette, but as Shelagh, her voice haunted his dreams.

After she returned to him as Shelagh, her voice graced his life. And standing next to her in church on Sunday mornings, he felt closer to God than he ever had before in his life.

During his musings, she had reached him. She turned towards him and he hesitated for half a second, no more, before lifting her veil.

Not for the first time that day, he thanked God for giving him his own personal angel.

\- - END - -

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 and Genesis 2:24


	3. Shelagh

Shelagh Before the Wedding

Based upon Call The Midwife, developed by Heidi Thomas

\- - Poplar, Early Spring 1959 - -

The girls were fusing over her. Even her Sisters were fusing a little bit. It didn't do any good for her nerves. She said yet another short prayer to Saint Dymphna, the patron saint of nervousness and anxiety. A prayer she had only said a hundred times or so that day.

Cynthia and Jenny were taking her veil out of the box when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Trixie called out, moving towards the door.

The grin that had graced her face all day - except when the nerves forced it away temporarily - returned when she heard the knocker call through the door "Timothy!"

Trixie whisked him in through the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

He looked so handsome. Shelagh went to her son. Ankles and knees pressed together, she crouched down, her voluminous skirts expanded around her for a second before settling. She looked up into Timothy's face. Automatically, she ran her hand across the back of his collar, ensuring it was settled correctly. She then straightened his jacket slightly by tugging on his lapels. The white carnation pinned to him was straight, so she didn't touch it.

"Oh, Timothy," she breathed, "you look so handsome."

He was staring at her with big eyes. "Mum, you look," he trailed off, his eyes moving up and down. "Beautiful." He ducked his head for a second, clearly embarrassed. Shelagh could do absolutely nothing but grin.

She released his lapels and took both of his hands in hers. She grasped them tightly and was glad he grasped them back. "Thank you."

It was a moment before he spoke again. "Dad told me to come and tell you we were here so you wouldn't be worried about us being late."

Shelagh laughed softly. Personally, she hadn't been concerned that Patrick would be late, but Trixie and Sister Evangelina had been going on about it. Sister Evangelina was convinced that she should've chaperoned him this morning. But now that Timothy was here, Shelagh admitted she was more than a little relieved that Patrick had gotten to the church on time.

"You look like an angel," Timothy muttered.

Shelagh bit her lip and ducked her head. Her son was so precious. There were times when he said or did the exact correct thing. When she looked back at his face, she could see a mixture of embarrassment and amazement. She decided not to bring attention to the comment, he was clearly self-conscious about it. "I wasn't worried about the two of you being late. I knew you'd get him here on time."

Timothy nodded.

Shelagh glanced up at the clock, realizing it was almost time. "Are you ready?"

He nodded again.

"Why don't you go take care of your father. We'll finish getting ready here, and I'll meet you up at the altar." Her voice almost caught on the final word. The altar of God. The place where He would join her with Patrick and Timothy. Shelagh said a brief prayer of thanks. She was so fortunate to have the love of her God and these men.

Timothy nodded a third time. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "We'll beat you up there, Mum, I promise."

Shelagh laughed and cupped his cheek before standing. She watched her son scurry out the door, slowed only slightly by the calipers on his legs. She raised her eyes to God and said a prayer of thanks for his health. She was so fortunate.

She turned back to face the nuns and nurses, who had congregated in the corner and were regarding her carefully. If she hadn't felt like an oddity at any point that day, she certainly did now. "What?"

Jenny spoke first. "How long as he been calling you 'Mum'?"

Shelagh glanced back at the closed door, as if she might still see Timothy standing there. He had called her Mum? She hadn't noticed. She tried to remember the last time she had heard him call her anything: Mum, Auntie Shelagh, or otherwise. She simply couldn't. Every time her son spoke, she heard "Mum."

Her son.

She turned back to the ladies, grinning. "I don't know. Nor do I know how long I've thought of him as my son."

\- - END - -


End file.
